Neglect happens

All right, I will admit, this blog has sucked lately. I'm being honest. FLYWINGS too has been neglected. But things happen, people get busy. I've been reading books. And have written more Patch blogs and cover letters than fiction. No fear, FLYWINGS is still very much on my mind.

Below are some recent changes I made to the manuscript's beginning. Again, I'm trying to clean and remove unnecessary components and increase the appeal to the younger audience, while focusing more on Stacey. Here goes:

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First 2 pages before rewrite:


Chapter 1: The Legend Lives

Not long ago, a flying hero fascinated the world. And this was real, not some comic book or movie. An unknown being swooped down from the sky and saved the day. Seriously, it was all over the news. People were shocked. They didn’t know what or who could possibly fly like that. Some thought, maybe an alien, or a huge bird, but most people called it an angel.

They had no idea it was just a plain old girl flying around up there. Her name was Stacey Krell, and she was minding her own business way before magic came along.

Like most girls, Stacey had a big imagination, played dress up and talked to her dolls. She dreamed about monsters and princesses, drew tons of pictures, and kept one entirely finished coloring book, even with the backgrounds filled in. She collected stickers and rocks, watched cartoons and gobbled up macaroni and cheese whenever she could. And she had friends—tons of friends—but they were gone now.

Well actually, the friends hadn’t gone anywhere. They stayed in Chicago, while Stacey moved far away to Arlington, Massachusetts. She also left her Grandma behind, her cousins, aunts and uncles. Stacey had begged not to go.

She didn’t want to start over. She didn’t want to find a new house, and new school. Pack her toys into boxes and say goodbye. She was afraid of being lonely. Stacey hadn’t the slightest idea how to make new friends. Her old friends had been around since before she could remember.

After three whole days at her new school, Stacey was still very friendless. She stood nervously still in the school parking lot, which was also a playground. Hopscotch and foursquare games were painted on the blacktop. Kids hid behind the teachers’ cars, threw balls and ran around like crazy. Their parents and nannies gradually arrived and took them home. Saint Joseph Elementary School towered above. Its dark bricked walls cast a cool shadow across the asphalt.

Stacey glanced over her shoulder. Every once in a while, she sensed someone watching her. She felt like a statue at a museum, with kids staring, pointing, whispering, but not getting too close. Stacey knew she stuck out. She was the only 2nd grader who wasn’t there for Kindergarten or 1st grade. Everybody had already made their friends then, Stacey thought. What was she supposed to do now? She sighed and kept an eye out for her dad, who would pick her up any minute now.

“A little help here!” an older boy yelled. His sudden presence startled Stacey. He was a lanky, strong boy with a few baby teeth missing in an ugly smirk. A nasty spaghetti stain covered nearly half of his blue school uniform shirt.

“Right there, dummy,” the boy pointed. “Pick it up!”

How rude, Stacey thought. She looked down at a green rubber football by her feet, slowly leaned over and tossed it to the boy.

The boy caught the ball and chucked it into the sky. He lingered there for a moment to be noticed, so Stacey would be impressed by his throw or something. Kind of creepy, Stacey decided. She broke his gaze and kept watch for her dad.

Tim Krell was on his way from work. As long as Stacey could remember he had worked nights for United Express, or UnEx for short. His job was Quality-Control Clerk, the same one he had back in Chicago. Every day he researched the addresses of lost parcels. And after two weeks, if the address was still unknown, sometimes Tim kept the package!

Stacey remembered when Tim brought home a huge box of gumballs. Another time he got hundreds of bags of red licorice. On Valentine’s Day he took home roses. And for Fourth of July, glow sticks! Tim was always very tired and covered in warehouse dust, but at least he got some goodies, Stacey thought.

She groaned—the annoying football boy was getting close again. Stacey avoided him this time and crossed the blacktop. She yawned and fiddled with the buttons of her plaid jumper. The pretty little girl had tan skin, chin-length dark hair and her mom’s striking hazel eyes. Stacey squinted through the sunshine and finally spotted her dad waving at her from his car.

“Hi, sweetie,” Tim smiled.

“Hi, Dad!” Stacey laughed. She ran over, opened the car door and hopped inside. “Why aren’t we walking?” she asked. “Our house is like a block away.”

“Didn’t feel like it,” Tim yawned. “I’m tired. How was your third day of school?”

“Good,” Stacey smiled and buckled up.

“Making friends?” Tim asked.

“No,” Stacey frowned.

“Oh, come on,” Tim yawned. “There’s got to be somebody. You mean you didn’t say a word to anybody all day?”

“Well, there is this one boy,” she said, “Wally. He sits by me and talks and talks all day about bugs and frogs and stuff.”

“Cool,” Tim smiled, putting the car in gear. “Give it time, Stace. You’ll make friends.”

Two minutes later their old Volkswagen Jetta pulled up to their newly purchased tiny blue house. It had a front porch, living room, kitchen, and three bedrooms were upstairs. In the backyard was another porch, garage and a swing-set. A playroom and workshop were in the basement. Every room had cardboard boxes, packing tissue and random stuff scattered all over.

“Aren’t we done unpacking yet?” Stacey groaned.

“Almost,” Tim smiled. “You look tired.”

“So do you,” Stacey said. “Let’s relax a bit.”

“Sounds good,” Tim yawned. “It’s going to be tough getting a nap in once your little brother is born, you know.” Tim paused and wiped the sweat off his receding hairline. “Things will totally change.”

The baby, Stacey remembered. Hard to believe he would be born in a few months. Stacey thought about the diapers, the bottles, the crying. She pictured her mom working at her new job with a big belly that kept getting bigger.

......

After rewrite:

Chapter 1: The New Girl

Not long ago, a flying hero fascinated the world. And this was real, not some comic book or movie. An unknown being swooped down from the sky and saved the day. Seriously, it was all over the news. People were shocked. They didn’t know what or who could possibly fly like that! Some thought, maybe an alien, or a huge bird, but most people called it an angel.

They had no idea it was just a plain old girl flying around up there. Her name was Stacey Krell, and she was minding her own business before magic came along. And once she could fly—man—it changed her whole life, which used to be quite normal.

Like most girls, Stacey played dress up and talked to her dolls. She dreamed about monsters and princesses, drew tons of pictures, and filled in coloring books. She collected stickers and rocks, watched cartoons and gobbled up macaroni and cheese whenever she could. And she had friends—lots of friends—but they were all gone.

Well actually, the friends hadn’t gone anywhere. They stayed in Chicago, while Stacey moved far away to Arlington, Massachusetts. Stacey had begged not to go.
She didn’t want to start over, find a new house, and new school, pack her toys into boxes and say goodbye. Stacey had no idea how to make new friends. Her old friends had been around since before she could remember.

So, after three whole days at her new school, Stacey was still very friendless. She stood alone in the Saint Joseph Elementary parking lot. The blacktop was covered with hopscotch and foursquare games and kids ran around like crazy while parents arrived and took them home.

Stacey sensed someone watching her. She felt like a statue at a museum, people staring and pointing but not getting too close. Stacey felt like an outcast—the only new kid. Everyone had already made friends by now, Stacey thought. What was she supposed to do? Then she heard a ball ounce nearby.

“A little help here!” an older boy yelled at Stacey. He was a lanky, strong kid with a few baby teeth missing in an ugly smile. A nasty spaghetti stain covered nearly half of his blue school uniform shirt.

“Right there, dummy,” the boy pointed. “Pick it up!”

How rude, Stacey thought! She tossed the green rubber football to the boy, then quickly looked away and fiddled with the buttons of her plaid jumper. The pretty little girl had tan skin, chin-length dark hair and her mom’s striking hazel eyes. Stacey squinted through the sunshine and finally spotted her dad waving at her from his car.

Two minutes later their old Volkswagen Jetta pulled up to their newly purchased tiny blue house. It had a front porch, living room, kitchen, and three bedrooms were upstairs. In the backyard was another porch, garage and a swing-set. A playroom and workshop were in the basement. Every room had cardboard boxes, packing tissue and random stuff scattered all over.

“Aren’t we done unpacking yet?” Stacey groaned.

“Almost,” Tim smiled. “You look tired.”

“So do you,” Stacey said and flopped onto the couch.

“Scoot over,” Tim yawned. “It’s going to be tough getting a nap once your little brother is born, you know.”

The baby, Stacey remembered. Her life was changing so much all at once. The baby would be born in a few months. Stacey thought about the diapers, the bottles, the crying. She pictured her mom at work with a big belly that kept getting bigger.